Growing Pains
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Brotherhood AU. Everyone has something to prove. They want to be the best, to be the star of the team. But sometimes the price of reaching the finish line first, is higher than expected.
1. Chapter 1

Growing Pains

By: Ridley

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me. All the lovelies belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW.

_A/N: Okay, the next part of Dragons is coming up. But as I was reading over it, I realized that I needed to tell a little piece of a back story. You see, Caleb and Joshua have issues, and Joshua is coming up in Chapter 5. And I think I need to show you a glimpse as to why those two lovely boys don't always get along. I love the way others have created Joshua in their stories, but in the Brotherhood AU he kept coming to me **this **way. And after two suicidal clients today…well, I needed some comforting. And after I was done with poor Dean, so did he. bg. So, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. There's not a lot of plot, but I might have went overboard on the whole touchy-feely stuff. What can I say…I'm a sucker for a hurt Dean fic. As usual though, my one-shot has grown, and now will be posted in parts. Hopefully being finished before the next chapter of Dragons next week. _

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"I never should have let you lead the way." Eighteen-year-old Caleb Reaves was not a happy hunter at the moment. Not only was he cold and hungry, but he was lost. He glared at the man ahead of him. "You, and your new tracking gadget, suck."

Add to that the fact the sparse sunlight was fading quickly, the temperature dropping right along with it, and his anger was swiftly edging up to fury. John Winchester was going to kill him. But only after Caleb got through kicking the know it all, pretty boy's ass.

"Stop your complaining, Reaves. If you hadn't made me take the long way around four miles back we would be at the cabin right now in front of the fire, probably enjoying some of Jim's chili and his home-brew."

"Yeah, because crossing that raging river would have been so smart," Dean Winchester spoke up with a scoff. He reached out to steady his little brother, who had once again stumbled in the growing darkness.

Twenty-three-year-old Joshua Sawyer was almost to his wit's end. The kid had barely spoken to him in the three days they had been at Jim's cabin, and when he did it was to mouth off. Which was really annoying considering the ten-year-old had 'Caleb' speak down to an art form. "Shut up, kid!" It was _not _an endearing trait.

Caleb drew up short. "Don't tell him to shut up, Sawyer."

The older hunter stopped then, turning to glare at Reaves. "You tell him to shut up all the time."

The psychic grinned, cockily. "Yeah, well, that's me."

"How about _you_ shut up then?" He had endured just about all he was going to from Reaves. The shit-eating, cocky, lop-sided grin was really getting on his nerves. The bad-ass attitude was hard to stomach at the best of times. He and the younger hunter barely tolerated each other on a good day. And today was not a good day.

Caleb had criticized every action he'd taken since setting out that morning, and it was getting really old, really fast. Mix in Winchester's two brats and it was enough to drive anyone to the end of their rope.

"Can we rest now? I'm tired." Sam Winchester complained, despite knowing the reaction it would garner. He'd asked the same question hours ago and got a chorus of negative answers. "And hungry," he muttered when everyone turned to look at him.

Dean and Caleb shared a quick look before the younger boy knelt in front of the five-year-old. "Sammy, I told you we'd be home in a little while. Just hang in there," his older brother told him.

"But…that was **forever **ago, and my feet hurt."

"For crying out loud!" Joshua growled, raking both his hands through his short, blond hair. "Can't you get him to be quiet?" He looked at Dean and then Caleb. For as quiet and anti-social as his brother was, Sam Winchester's gregarious, talkative nature seemed never ending. No matter what anyone else said, Joshua didn't find _it_ an endearing quality either.

"He's five!" Reaves snapped back, slipping his pack from his shoulders and bending down to rifle through it. "Sorry he's not the good little trooper you want him to be." He withdrew a bag of animal crackers and handed them to Sam, along with a small thermos bottle with Superman on it. "Here, runt, munch on these until we decide what we're going to do next."

Sawyer laughed. "I've got to say, Reaves, John's turned you into quite the accomplished baby-sitter."

"At least he's learned something from Dad." Dean looked up at him, his green eyes defiant. "You couldn't find your own ass in a dark room."

"I don't see Caleb or you, for that fact, making any progress, _Deuce. _Or is it Ace?"

"It's _Dean_." Dean stepped forward, but Caleb caught the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him back.

"Leave it, kid. I don't want you catching cooties."

"Yeah. Leave it, _kid._"

"Stop being an ass, Josh." Caleb stood back up. "I know it's your first instinct, but try to fight it for a change." He was tired of the overachiever picking on Dean because he was severely lacking in the comeback department. Apparently Sawyer saw the much younger boy as a less threatening opponent. That showed how little he knew..

"Just like you fight your instincts, Demon Boy."

Caleb glared at him, feeling the heat of anger rush through his body, his face burning. "What the fuck is your problem, Sawyer? This was your idea."

"And yours to tag along."

It was true to a degree. Caleb had offered to come along after Joshua decided he would take out after the other hunters, and track down the location of the Black Dog himself. At first, Reaves had told him he was an idiot. One of the first rules of hunting was you didn't do it alone-especially if you were walking into a situation with unknown variables.

But if the young psychic was honest with himself, he had to admit he was more afraid Joshua _would_ find the lair than he was concerned about the man's safety. A score like that would make him even more impressive to the other hunters-to John. It might even get him a coveted ring.

"I could have found the dog's lair without your help," Sawyer continued to rant.

"Yeah, that's why Caleb led you straight there," Dean's voice broke into the psychic's reverie. He shook himself from his self-incriminating thoughts just in time to see the older hunter's demeanor change.

Josh took a step towards Dean and Reaves grabbed the front of his jacket, shoving him back so hard he stumbled. Caleb let the anger at himself fuel his distaste for Sawyer. "Oh **please** do something stupid so I have a reason to leave your body out here for the Black to snack on."

Sawyer grinned to hide the slight twinge of fear that raced through him. Caleb was younger, but he was strong, and quick. He had passed up Sawyer at six foot a few inches ago, and although he wasn't as muscular as the older hunter, he was skilled-extremely skilled. Who the hell knew exactly what he was capable of.

Joshua's father, Harland, often likened Caleb's acceptance into the brotherhood to trying to domesticate a wolf hybrid. You could never be quite sure if it would tear off the hand that fed it. "Bodyguard _and _babysitter. Great combination."

"Can we go home now?" Sam asked, once again drawing everyone's attention. He was huddled on a rock, quickly devouring the last of the cookies and milk.

"Yeah, little brother." Dean glanced at Caleb and then glared at Joshua. "If these two are finished marking their territories."

"And if Joshua can get that terrific new tracking system that he was bragging about to actually work," Reaves added, stepping back from the other man's personal space after roughly patting him on the chest. "He's in charge, after all."

Joshua watched those perfect white teeth curl into a feral smile, and quickly swallowed the lump in his throat back down. The last thing he needed to do was show fear. "Yeah, I am in charge and if it weren't for these two," Sawyer gestured to the younger boys. "We would have crossed the river and been back home now-with the location of the Black Dog's lair."

Caleb rolled his eyes, his grin fading. "Stop making excuses. You have no idea where you're going now, and you didn't back there either. That sophisticated technology of yours is severely lacking."

"Okay, if you're so smart, why don't you use those psychic abilities of yours to navigate us back home?"

"It doesn't work that way."

"Of course not." Josh grumbled. "It's no wonder everyone is severely disappointed in what Jim thought you were going to be."

"What the hell does that mean?" Caleb asked, stepping towards the blond again.

"Never mind," Joshua shook his head. "I'm tired of arguing with you. We're going my way, and that's an order."

"An order?" Reaves snorted, starting forward again, but Dean caught his arm.

"Sammy's tired, and it's getting cold."

Caleb sighed, raked a hand through is hair. "Yeah," he nodded to Dean. "Get my pack. I'll get the runt."

"I can get Sam."

Reaves recognized the defiant look and frowned. He respected Dean's resolve, but right now was not the time for pride. They could move faster if Caleb carried Sam.

He moved them slightly away from Sawyer and didn't miss the sigh of frustration the other man let out. "Look. I know you can take care of Sammy, but I need you to watch our sixes. I don't exactly trust Davy Crockett's trail blazing."

Finally, Dean nodded. "It's like trusting Bobby to set you up on a blind date."

Reaves laughed, shaking his head at the kid's astute observation skills. Maybe he had to be more careful with what he said in front of him. "Right, now move your ass, Deuce. We're burning daylight."

"Ready to go, Cowboy?" The psychic knelt in front of the youngest Winchester.

"I'm tired of walking, Caleb," Sam complained, looking up at the older man.

"Who said anything about walking? Just call me _A Million to One._"

The five-year-old grinned at the mention of Pastor Jim's rescued race horse. The big Arabian, A-Mill-O, was more trail pony than Kentucky contender these days, and one of Sam's favorite things. "Hop on." Reaves grabbed the little boy's hands and swung him up onto his back. "But no spurring like last time. Got it?"

Sam giggled. "Can I have a crop?"

Dean handed his brother a stick before the psychic could get a word in edge wise. "Here ya'go, little brother."

Reaves glared at him. "You know where I'm putting that if he hits me with it. Right?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure." A small, but cocky grin split his face and he glanced towards Sawyer, who was working with the hand-held tracking device. "But I can think of a better place."

The psychic shook his head again. Okay, he was definitely going to have to watch his mouth around the kid. "I'm sure you could."

"If you boys are done playing, we need to get moving." The older hunter called out to them. "I think I have the hang of this thing now."

Dean and Caleb shared another look, but it was Sam who summed it up best. "I think Josh's new toy is a piece of crap."

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A/N: Oh, if you think the boys are about to find themselves in whole mess of trouble...then you're right. Unfortunately, that Black Dog is a much better tracker than poor Joshua. Chapter 2 coming Friday.


	2. Chapter 2

Growing Pains

Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this was later than promised. It is longer than the last chapter to make up for it though. Thanks so much to all those who have reviewed. Your thoughts and kind words do keep me and the muse motivated.

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The wind had picked up considerably by the time they crested the next ridge, kicking up fallen leaves and causing it to feel colder than it actually was. Shade was working against them also in both the temperature department and light aspect.

Even though many of the trees had shed their leaves, what was left of the early November sun didn't seem strong enough to penetrate the heavy canopy of pines and other evergreens. Darkness would be upon them very soon.

"I think it may be just over the next hill." Joshua lifted his binoculars to his eyes and peered through the thick forest in front of him. "We can make it before it gets completely dark if we pick up speed." He turned his gaze to the trio, dropping the binoculars to swing freely from his neck.

"You said that about this hill, too." Caleb pointed out, shifting Sam's weight so he could free up a hand to push at his long hair, which was being whipped about by the chilling gale.

The little boy had fallen asleep some time ago, his head resting against the older hunters back, where Reaves could feel small puffs of breath hitting his neck. What had started out as an exciting adventure for Sam had long since become a taxing journey which he wanted over with. "And if you haven't noticed, it's already dark."

"I got him," Dean said from beside of Reaves, and Caleb released his hold on the little boy's legs, letting his brother take him.

Joshua shot him a side long glance. "Well if you hadn't had to play nursemaid, then we might have made better time."

"What did you want me to do?" Caleb snapped, rolling his stiff shoulders, glancing to where Sam was now blearily rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Leave them behind?"

"You could have left them at the cabin."

"With a Black Dog on the loose? That would have went over really well with John and Pastor Jim."

"We could have taken care of ourselves." Dean didn't like Reaves' insinuation that he was defenseless. He might have been ten, but he could already handle any weapon and was decent in hand to hand.

"Shut up, Deuce."

"You shut up."

"Dean?" Sam tugged at his brother's sleeve. "I got to go."

"Not now, Sammy."

"And they're going to be so happy when they show back up at the cabin and no one's there to tell them where we are." Joshua shook his head, pointed his finger at the teen. "You're going down for that little faux pas, not me Reaves."

"I was trying to keep your ass out of trouble."

"Caleb," Sam tried again, bouncing up on his toes to pull at the psychic's arm. "I got to go."

"Not now, runt," Reaves brushed the little boy off, his attention completely focused on Sawyer.

"Oh, please. Like you are such the team player, Caleb. Admit it. You were afraid I was going to make a score with the whole Demon Dog thing. You couldn't stand that I might actually have the upper hand for a change. That I might get a ring before you."

"You mean that stupid tracking system?" Caleb snorted. "That thing is about as useful as a poodle on a fox hunt."

"Then it's right on par with those amazing psychic abilities of yours now isn't it?"

"At least he didn't spend a fortune on his freaky mind powers," Dean interjected. "The guy must have seen you coming a mile a way-or maybe he smelled you. That aftershave reeks."

"Shut up!"

"Leave him out of it, Sawyer."

"I'd love to, but he keeps sticking his little nose where it doesn't belong."

Before Dean or Caleb could come back with a reply, a mournful howl cut through the moaning wind rushing through the valley below them.

"What was that?" Joshua's head shot up, his alert eyes scanning the darkened woods.

"Sounds like a hungry Black Dog if you ask me." Reaves replied, checking the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans. At least he hadn't come completely unprepared. "It must be a whole hell of a lot better at tracking than you."

"Sammy?" Dean said as soon as the unholy sound echoed around them again. He reached to his side, trying to latch onto the kid, and nearly panicked when he met only air. "Sam!' He whirled around searching the small clearing for his brother but there was no sign of the little boy. "Sammy!"

Caleb turned to the distraught ten-year-old, instantly realizing the problem. "Shit!" He swore, rushing after Dean who was heading for the tree-line, frantically calling out for Sam to answer him over the now roaring wind.

"Deuce-hold up!" Reaves caught his jacket, stopped him from going into the thick forest.

Dean stopped, but cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again. "Sam! Where are you?" He turned a terror-filled gaze to the psychic. "Do you feel him?"

Caleb understood what the kid was asking-could he psychically sense the other boy. Dean had learned early on that playing hide and seek was pointless when your opponent could find you with a quick thought. He took a deep breath, reached in search of the boy. He winced as he made contact, still not use to the nerve-rattling sensation of filtering through all the other presences around to reach one specific person. What worried him most was the other essence he felt. "He's not far." Reaves quickly opened his eyes, put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "He's okay."

The psychic turned, finding Josh right behind them. "Can you set up some kind of protection from that thing? It's close. "

"I didn't bring any salt." Joshua slid his pack off, dug inside. "I have a dagger."

"And?" Reaves demanded, impatiently. "Do you have a spell or something?"

"I don't really do the spell thing!"

"Since when?"

"Since I don't want to be seen as a witch."

Caleb sighed. "Then what the hell are you going to do with the dagger, because the last time I checked a silver-bullet to the heart was the only thing stopping one of those bastards." He jabbed his gun towards the woods as another howl broke loose, and Dean struggled in his grip, calling out for Sam again.

"I can do a blood-binding. I have an incantation that will work I think."

The psychic looked at him with slight exasperation. "A spell."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Yes, damn it. A spell."

"Good. Do it." Reaves knelt in front of Dean. "Deuce, keep your ass in that circle. I'm going after Sammy."

The kid shook his head. "No! I want to help."

"Then use this to draw a circle in the dirt." Joshua thrust a sturdy-looking stick with a small amethyst crystal fastened to the tip of it with silver wire in his direction. "It's white ash," he explained, as if that were an important delineation. Dean and Caleb frowned at him.

"A wand?" Reaves raised a brow.

Joshua growled deep in his throat. "If you insist on using archaic terminology, then yes-a wand." He sighed. "It was my mothers."

Caleb nodded, gave Dean a small shove. "Do it, kid."

"Make it large," Joshua instructed, digging in his pack again. When he looked back up Reaves was gone. He could barely hear him tearing through the brush over the gusting gale, but he could hear his calls for the youngest Winchester. His gaze went back to Dean, who was carefully and quickly doing as he asked. "Don't close it until I'm there."

Dean continued to drag the staff along the ground in a large 360 degree arch, his eyes flicking from the dirt and leaf covered earth to the woods where Caleb had gone. He couldn't believe he had let his little brother out of his sight. It had only taken a moment and Sammy was gone. He swallowed the large lump in his throat, blinking away the stinging that had started at the back of his eyes.

"Stay on the inside as you finish."

Sawyer was beside him now, holding a dangerous looking blade and a carved wooden bowl. When Dean was finished closing the invisible circle, Joshua took the wand from him, mumbling a few words, before waving it over the bowl.

Another howl pierced the early night and Dean jumped, clenching his fists tightly. That one had sounded much closer. Sawyer didn't even look up as he placed the bowl on the ground, quickly slicing the blade across his palm.

The ten-year-old bit his lip to keep from calling out to his brother again as this time a vicious snarling and growling was carried to them on the wind. He turned his gaze back to Joshua, who was mixing his own blood with a handful of dirt. "It's from outside the circle," he explained as if Dean had questioned him. "My blood is like the magical mortar."

Dean didn't really care about the stupid details of Sawyer's freaky spell. He just wanted Caleb to burst through the tree-line with Sammy in tow-for them all to be home.

Joshua's voice echoed around him now in a loud chant, and he couldn't help but to watch in curiosity as the older boy first touched the wand to the bloody concoction in the bowl, and then to the ground.

Where the crystal met earth, a spark suddenly ignited, and a large violet-hued flame leapt forth. It grew and raced like a snake around the ground, forming a circle of purple fire around them. The blaze died as quickly as it had begun, but a protective ring of pale light still glowed in its wake. Dean looked up at Joshua, who grinned. "Abracadabra."

"We're protected now?"

The older hunter nodded. "Nothing evil can reach us."

Another howl and more snarling had Dean bouncing on his toes. "But we can go out?"

Sawyer knelt down to gather the things he would need to make a normal fire. "You can."

Joshua realized his mistake as soon as he said it. The Winchester kid was moving towards the woods before he could even stand back up. "Dean!" He shouted. "Don't you dare!"

The boy stopped and glanced at him. "I've got to help them. I can lead it away so Caleb can get back to the circle. Then I'll double back," he explained as if it were a simple game of hopscotch. "I'm fast."

Joshua started for him, just as Dean stepped over the circle. "Damn it! Reaves can take care of himself!"

The ten-year-old glared at him. "But Sammy can't." And he was gone.

"Fuck!" Joshua growled. "Dean Winchester, get back here!" When only rattling branches and another chilling howl answered him back, he stomped to the center of the circle, kicking up dirt as he went. "Fucking Reaves. This is all his fault."

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Caleb sighed as he helped Sam quickly refasten his jeans. He couldn't be mad at the kid. After all this whole mess was his fault. "Hurry, Sammy. We got to go."

"You didn't listen to me when I said that."

Reaves picked his gun back up and scooped the little boy in his other arm. "Yeah, and look where that got us." He shook his head, standing. "Why did you go so far in the woods in the first place?"

"I couldn't find the right kind of tree."

Caleb didn't want to know what that was about, so he merely picked up his pace. "Next time…you don't go anywhere alone. Got it?"

"Got it," Sam mumbled, burying closer to him as leaves and small branches nipped at them, in their hurried pace.

Reaves found the small clearing easily enough in the dark, especially with the faint purplish glow emanating from around it. He started to breath a sigh of relief at their obvious good fortune when his eyes met Sawyer's.

The older boy was standing in the middle of the protection circle in front of a large, roaring fire, and he was completely alone.

Caleb stepped through the ring, and sat Sam on the ground, inside the boundary. "Where the hell is Dean?"

Josh's face paled. "He's not with you?"

"Hell no! I left him here with you!" He grasped Sam's hand, making sure the little boy didn't get any notions about running off to find his brother. "Tell me you didn't let him go off alone?"

"Let him?" Joshua snapped. "I ordered him to stay here. But guess what? In case you haven't noticed, you two have a whole lot of things in common."

"Shit!" Reaves raked a hand through his hair, just as the heart-stopping scream tore through the night.

The wall of pain hit him with the same intensity and he grabbed at his head as his senses were overcome with a sickening cocktail of shock and fear. "Deuce!" he shouted, starting for the opposite side of the clearing just as Dean broke through the woods in a stumbling gate. Their gazes met and locked as the ten-year-old tried to get to the circle.

He didn't quite make it though, as a black shadow emerged behind him, solidifying into the form of a large ebony dog.

The psychic heard Sam yell, prayed Joshua had the sense to hold onto the kid, as he crossed the protective circle to get to Dean in time. He lifted his gun as he went, but the beast was quick, pouncing on the boy before Reaves could get a shot off.

Then Dean was screaming and the dog was tearing at him, shaking him, as the two of them rolled around in the dead, wet leaves. Caleb was terrified that he would hit the boy if he fired, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Joshua pulled the five-year-old to him, turning him away from the frenzied attack, as his mind raced for a way to be of any help. Spells and magical words fled through his head, but nothing stuck-no specific counter for what was taking place.

Reaves opened his mind, hoping to connect somehow with the animal, if only to distract it. His overtaxed senses reeled under the onslaught of emotion coming from Dean, but he was able to hold it at bay long enough to touch the darkness on the other side.

He knew the instant he made connection. His blood seemed to turn to ice, branching out along his circulatory system like a fissure in a frozen pond. The horrors of loss and grief and everything tainted in the world seeped into him and he screamed as suddenly what had been frost turned to fire -his cries mixing with Dean's.

The experience of touching the Black Dog's thoughts must have been as an unpleasant experience for the beast as it was for him. It lifted it's bloodied jowls from Dean's body and yelped, turning glowing red eyes on the hunter.

Caleb didn't hesitate. As soon as it moved, he cut the mental link, lifted his gun again and fired blindly. The unholy creature snarled and lunged for him and Reaves fired twice more, striking the monster's chest, but not getting a clear heart shot. It howled again, and fled into the forest.

He nearly sank to his knees in relief, but the harsh breathing and muffled sobs coming from Dean propelled him forward. "Deuce?"

The kid jumped and tried to curl into a ball when Reaves hand touched him. "Easy," he soothed, placing a hand on the boy's cold face. "It's me, kiddo. It's Caleb."

Dean blinked, his breath still hitching. "Caleb?"

"Yeah," Caleb barely had the word out of his mouth when the boy was struggling to get up.

He helped him and was completely taken by surprise when Dean latched onto him, practically crawling inside of his jacket. "Hey, it's okay." Reaves pulled him closer, took the opportunity to slide one arm under the boy's legs and lift him. "I've got you. You're okay." They needed to get into the circle quickly incase the dog got brave and tried another attack.

He could feel the violent shivers wracking the boy's body as he made his way to their only protection. Sam was by his side as soon as he crossed over. "Dean! Dean!" The five-year-old cried.

"He's okay, Sammy. Just hold on." Caleb said with more confidence than he felt as he moved as close to the fire as he could get before carefully maneuvering Dean to the ground.

The ten-year-old seemed as reluctant to let go of him as he was to give the kid up, but he finally coaxed him to a sitting position and moved far enough away to get a good look at the boy. "Let's check you out, Deuce."

"I'm okay," Dean said, breathily. "I'm okay. I'm okay." He repeated. His glassy, wild-eyed stare and trembling limbs told another story, and Reaves shared a worried sidelong glance with Sawyer.

"Sure you are," Caleb forced a smile, and swallowed thickly, to dislodge the enormous lump from his throat. "Sammy, why don't you move back just a little, huh?"

The youngest Winchester shook his head, continued the death grip he had on his big brother's blood-slicked hand. Reaves watched as large, silent tears slipped from the eyes locked unflinchingly on Dean's dirt-smeared face, and he forced his voice to remain calm.

"Sammy, look at me."

Sam finally glanced to Caleb, more tears falling steadily now. "Dean's hurt."

"We're going to fix him up," Reaves promised. "But I need some room to work. Okay?"

Joshua watched the psychic interact with the little boy, surprised at not only the uncharacteristic soft tone of his voice, but at the second-nature instincts he seemed to possess when it came to dealing with him. For everything he knew about the other hunter, for all the whispers and rumors he'd been privy to, nothing began to describe the behaviors he'd witnessed. Half-demon or not, he had a way with Winchester's kids.

Sam finally let go of Dean and scooted back a few inches, anxiously watching as Caleb began to assess the damage the Black Dog had caused. "Where are you hurt, Deuce?"

Dean's jacket was shredded on his right side. The light blue fabric was smeared with dirt and blood, like the kid's hands. He looked up at Reaves, his pale features illuminated in the firelight. "I don't know."

Reaves licked his lips, realizing the boy was in shock. "Can't be too bad if you aren't bitching about it." He grinned then, running his hand over Dean's short, blond hair.

"Yeah," Dean said, shakily, but he was starting to look a little more with it.

"What were you thinking out there?" Caleb asked as he gently peeled back the pieces of fabric to get a look at the damaged skin beneath. "That wasn't the smartest thing you've done."

"I…I was worried about Sammy," Dean hissed, as the psychic lifted his arm to check for breaks.

"I had to pee." Sam spoke up, breaking some of the tension with his five-year-old indignation. "Real bad."

Dean glanced at his brother. "It's okay, Sammy."

"No it's not," Reaves said casually, trying to keep everyone's mind off the current crisis. At least the boy's arm wasn't broken or dislocated. "You both are going to be doing my laundry for a week for this little total disregard for the rules."

"There's no rules against going to the bathroom," Sam pointed out, and Caleb favored him with a hard look.

"I was talking about the one about going anywhere alone."

"I told him not to go," Joshua spoke up then. "I ordered him to stay put."

Caleb glanced at the other hunter and then back to the ten-year-old. What worried him the most were the bites. The wounds were deep, oozing blood, steadily. And the fact that he couldn't remember if a Black's saliva was poisonous or not scared the hell out of him, made his voice more gruff than he meant for it to be. "Dean… why the hell didn't you listen to him?"

The kid blinked, his eye lashes standing out in stark contrast against his blanched cheeks. "He's not in charge. You are."

"I am in charge!" Sawyer snapped. " I'm the oldest hunter. You have to listen to me."

Reaves ignored Josh. "I would have told you the same damn thing, Deuce. In fact, I believe I did." He looked at the boy, shook his head. "Let's get this thing off of you." The psychic eased Dean's arm out of his shredded coat, and gently tore the sleeve of the kid's shirt, wincing as he got a better look at the slashes across the boy's shoulder. "You knew better than to leave the protection circle." God, if he wasn't a mess.

"But…Sammy…" Dean sucked in a breath as Caleb probed the deepest wound that reach half way to his chest.

"I had Sammy. I wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"It's my job to watch…out for him. And I heard the Dog…I wanted to give you two a chance to get back…" Dean panted.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean it." Sam inched closer to his older brother, running his hands through his brother's hair in a comforting motion. "I couldn't hold it not one minute longer. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault…little brother." Dean couldn't help but to cry out as Caleb pressed his hand down over the wound and applied pressure.

"Stop it!" Sam shouted at Caleb, going for his hand that was causing his brother's pain. "Stop hurting him."

"Sawyer," Reaves jutted his chin towards the little boy and Josh grabbed him, pulling him further away from Dean and Caleb.

"Let me go!" Sam shouted, and the psychic glared at him.

"Hush, Sam! Now!"

The little boy quieted under Caleb's harsh tone, but continued to struggle against Josh's hold.

Dean was trying to get his breathing under control, his watery green eyes looking up at Reaves. The initial shock had worn off, and the painful reality was taking hold. "I'm sorry, Deuce," Caleb offered a tight grin. "But I've got to get this stopped, kiddo. Just hang tough-keep breathing. Okay?"

The ten-year-old nodded, closing his eyes and trying to hold his breath steady. "How bad…"

"Not too bad," Caleb lied. "Add a little character to you is all. Chicks dig scars, you know."

Dean opened his eyes, smirked. "I'm ten."

"Yeah?" Caleb shook his head. "Ten-year-olds do what they're told."

"Sorry," He gasped as Reaves pressed harder.

Reaves snorted. "No you're not."

Dean just looked at him, trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. "If you had been…just a little…quicker on the shot…it would have worked…" Dean bit out, and Reaves sighed.

"I could have shot _through_ you I guess, but then we'd had a whole 'nother kind of problem."

"Try explaining…that…to Dad." Dean looked up again, and Caleb rolled his eyes.

"No thanks. This will be bad enough." He lifted his hand, his stomach rebelling at the slick, warm feel of blood-Dean's blood. "He's going to kill me." At least the bleeding had slowed some.

The ten-year-old shook his head. "I'll …tell him…it was Joshua's fault."

"The hell you will." Sawyer snapped. "This is all on Reaves' head. He's the one that insisted on you guys tagging along."

The psychic glared at Joshua, worry-fed anger making him shake. Didn't the idiot know enough to keep his mouth shut-to just play along. "Give me your shirt, and get your hands off Sam."

"Excuse me," Sawyer gladly let the little boy go, and he rushed back to his brother.

"Your shirt," Caleb started taking his own coat off. "I'm going to use it for bandages."

"Great," Josh sighed, but shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his white Henley over his head. "What's wrong with _your_ shirt?"

Reaves ignored him, tugging off the flannel over-shirt he was wearing, leaving him with only the short-sleeved Red Sox tee underneath. "How you doing, Deuce?"

"I'm good," Dean told him, his eyes meeting Sam's. "It's just a scratch." Reaves didn't miss the way the kid's breath still hitched, or the lines of pain etching his too-young face.

"Really?" Sam looked uncertainly to Caleb, who swallowed back his concern, and winked at him.

"Your big brother probably left a really bad taste in that old mutt's mouth. Huh, Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam finally smiled. "I bet Dean doesn't taste like chicken."

The older Winchester snorted. "Like you two …taste like steak."

"We should have let him take a bite out of Reaves," Joshua proceeded to tear his shirt into large strips, handing them to Caleb, who was digging through his pack in search of the first aid kit he was certain he had brought. "Too bad Demon Dogs aren't cannibalistic."

"Shut up!" Dean was off the ground so fast, the psychic didn't even register the movement before the kid was scrambling towards Josh, injury be damned. "Shut your stupid mouth!" Dean swung out at the older hunter, nearly clipping him with his fist. If Sawyer hadn't stumbled back, the kid would have landed a hard right to his mid-section. "I didn't…see you moving out of the circle. You didn't care what happened to Sammy." He screamed, lashing out again. "This is _your_ fault."

"Dean!" Caleb wrapped his arm around the kid's waist, pulling him away from Sawyer. "Stop it."

"I'm sick of him," Dean choked, tears blurring his vision, straining his voice. "Fuckin' jerk." He shouted, as the psychic managed to pull him back towards the fire.

"Dean…you're bleeding again." Sam's scared voice seemed to take the fight out of him and he would have fallen if Caleb hadn't caught him.

"Easy, slugger," Reaves muttered into his hair as he lowered him back to the ground, sinking to his knees beside of the younger boy. Sam hovered beside them, anxiously shifting from foot to foot. Either he was scared, or needed to go again. Caleb hoped it was the former.

He sighed, hoping a distraction would remedy either. "Get me the canteen, Sammy." The eighteen-year-old pointed to where they had discarded their other things. "Before Captain No-brainer does anything else stupid."

Dean glared at him, huffing through clenched teeth, two tears slipping from his long lashes. "It's…Captain One-helluva Big Brother."

Caleb shook his head. "Right. I forgot."

"Here," Joshua handed Caleb the rest of the bandages, his wary gaze staying on Dean. "What else do you need me to do?"

"Is getting us the hell out of here an option?" Caleb looked at him and for the first time Sawyer saw fear flicker in the intense green gaze. It was almost as unwelcome as it was unexpected.

"I think we're here for the night." He swallowed thickly. "Sorry."

"Right." They were sorry alright. Both of them. "Then see if you can find the damn first aid kit."

"Uh, Caleb…" Dean started, and Reaves quickly turned back to face him.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I took the kit out."

"What?" Reaves hissed. "Why the hell did you do that?"

Dean sighed, his breath hitching again. "To make room for Sam's stuff."

The psychic dropped his chin to his chest, tried to reign in his temper. That explained the extra set of very small clothes and the one-eyed WooBee bear. "Damn it, Deuce," he sighed.

"I'm sorry," the tremble in the kid's voice had him forcing his own fear and frustration away. "I…didn't think we'd need it."

"It's okay." He looked at the ten-year-old. It was his job to recheck the pack, not Dean's. "Didn't really have any thing in there that would do you much good anyway." Except for holy water and peroxide and some codeine for the pain. Not to mention a suture kit, and a space blanket.

"We had Band-aides." Sam said, handing the canteen he had retrieved to Reaves. "And cherry Tylenol."

Reaves looked back to Dean, taking the water from Sammy with a small grin. "Guess your big brother knocked himself out of trying out those really cool ET Band-aides you conned Jim into buying, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, frowning at the other boy. "They glow in the dark, too."

"We'll just have to make do with these." Caleb held up the pieces of Sawyer's shirt. "They don't glow in the dark, but I'm willing to bet they're designer."

"You bet your Wal-mart rags they were," Joshua grumped, "And I'll be expecting a new one when we get out of this mess."

Reaves ignored him, instead focusing once more on his patient, and the nasty shoulder wound. "I'm going to clean this the best I can, Rocky. You ready?"

Dean nodded, bit his lip when Sam's small fingers curled around his hand. "I can take it."

Caleb had no doubt he could. The boy was tough. "Some of these need stitches, but it will have to wait until we get you back to Jim." Reaves poured the water over the wounds, hating the pain he was causing, knowing plain tap water wasn't going to do much good. He hoped the hell-beast didn't have rabies.

"That'll be fun." Dean sassed, trying to take his mind off of the burning sensation the cold water was causing.

"Jim's a good doctor." Sam informed his brother, sincerely, as he brought his other hand to also grip his brother's. "He'll fix you good as new."

When Caleb was done with the torture, he wrapped the wounds quickly, immobilizing the boy's arm against his chest. He then helped Dean slip into his flannel shirt.

A sudden mournful howl broke the quiet night and both younger boys jumped, Sam practically crawling on top of his brother.

"Easy, runt," Caleb cautioned the five-year-old as he watched Dean wince as a sharp elbow bumped his shoulder. "Take it easy."

"You think that thing will come back?" Dean asked, hoping his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt. The last thing he wanted was another run in with Cujo.

Caleb let his hand rest on the kid's uninjured shoulder as his sharp eyes searched the darkness around them. "Doubt it. I know I hit it a few times. Might not have been a heart shot, but that silver will make it think twice about coming back for seconds."

"It could have a mate." Joshua offered up, and the psychic looked at him like he'd just lost what little sense he might have had. "What? Most of them run in packs," the blond defended, ignorantly.

"I want Daddy," Sam whimpered, burrowing closer to his brother.

"Nice," Reaves bit out, continuing to glare at Sawyer. "Come on, Sammy. How about you help me with Dean?"

The five-year-old lifted his head, but didn't move away from his brother. "He's okay," Dean said between clenched teeth, when Caleb reached out to take the kid.

"I know he is, but I have a job for him."

"A job?" Sam let go of his brother and went to Caleb, who gave him a forced grin.

"Yeah. You're going to be my space blanket."

"Huh?" Sam tilted his head.

"Yep," Caleb gave him a serious look. "I'm going to need you to keep Dean warm, okay. We don't want him getting cold during the night. It's very important."

"Dude…" Dean complained, but a sharp look from Reaves shut him up.

"He needs to rest, and so do you, Okay? We've got a long hike out of here in the morning. I'll need your help, Sammy."

"I can do it." Sam nodded vigorously, then frowned. "What do I do?"

"It's a piece of cake." Caleb looked at Dean who rolled his eyes, but relaxed back to the ground. "Just curl up real close to Dean and think really warm thoughts."

Josh snorted, but stepped away when the psychic shot him another warning look. "Like when I was Mercury?"

Caleb frowned, not understanding and Dean spoke up. "He played the planet… Mercury… in his school play a few weeks ago."

"About the solar system," Sam explained further. "It's the planet closest to the sun. But it's the smallest, too-that's why they picked me." The little boy frowned. "I'm the smallest in my class."

"Okay, Tiny Einstein," Reaves interrupted. "You curl up next to Dean and get your Mercury mojo going on."

The five-year-old promptly did as the psychic said, snuggling against his big brother's uninjured side, looking up at Caleb. "Like this."

"Perfect." Caleb then spread his leather jacket over the two of them.

"Keep it," Dean pushed the jacket back towards Reaves. "I've got Mercury. We'll be okay."

The psychic shook his head, pulling the coat back up around the two boys. "No, I'm good. I'll be moving around."

"You're going to freeze your ass off," Dean muttered with a look of exasperation that reminded Caleb so much of John Winchester that he couldn't help but to grin.

"Worried about me, cupcake? How incredibly girly of you."

"Are you kidding?" Dean smirked. "I'm taking bets on how… many fingers you lose to frost bite-not to mention, other more valuable parts."

Reaves rolled his eyes. "Now there's the smart-ass I've grown to sort of like."

"We love you, too." Sam said around a yawn, much to his older brother's embarrassment.

"Ditto, Saturn."

"Mercury," Sam corrected and the psychic laughed.

"Right. I forgot-smallest planet in your class."

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Happy Halloween, Everyone!!

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Once he was sure Sam and Dean were settled, Reaves moved back to where Joshua was redrawing the circle with the wand. He watched him for a moment as he withdrew a large blade, whispering another incantation. The blond ran the steel across his palm, letting his own blood drip over the perimeter.

"Think this thing will hold if that Black comes again?"

Sawyer looked at him, as again a large purple flame raced around them, dying down to glow with a lavender luminescence. "It's strong magic. Demon dogs are dangerous because of their physical manifestation-but they're not smart enough to break barriers like this one."

"Okay." Caleb frowned. "I'll take your word for it."

"I do know about this stuff." Josh wrapped a piece of his cut-up shirt around his still-bleeding hand and tied it off. He glanced out into the darkness. "This whole hunting thing may be your strong suit, but counter spells and witchcraft are mine. I suppose you can't fight how you were raised." The blond sheathed the knife at his side, instead of slipping in back into his bag. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Yeah." Caleb checked his gun again, sliding the safety off. He felt better having it at the ready, just in case Sawyer wasn't as smart as he thought he was. "Not that I don't trust you…" He glanced up at Joshua when he felt the man's gaze on him. He shrugged apologetically. "Hell…who am I kidding? I don't trust you."

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Feeling is mutual."

Reaves shrugged. "I'll take first watch, then. Get some sleep."

The blond frowned. "I'm in charge. I'll take first watch."

The psychic raked a hand through his hair. Did everything have to be a battle? "Do you really want to argue about who's taking what watch?"

"Why not? We argue about everything else."

"That's because you're an ass."

Joshua took a step forward, poked a finger in the direction of Reaves's chest. "And you're a stubborn sonofabitch, who thinks you have the inside track on being the next Knight."

"Is that what this is about?" Caleb shook his head, giving the other man an incredulous look. "You think I'm trying to take the position in the Brotherhood that you and your pals want?"

"Aren't you?"

"I don't give a fuck about being in the Brotherhood." It wasn't exactly the truth, but at the moment it wasn't exactly a lie either. The only thing Caleb cared about at the moment was getting Dean and Sam back to safety in relatively one piece.

Sawyer dropped his hands to his side. "Keep telling yourself that, Reaves. But I find it awfully funny that you're willing to be John Winchester's lackey. I mean you follow the man around like a puppy."

Caleb clenched his fists. "I work with Winchester-that's all. He and my father are best friends."

"And those boys? Where do they fit in?"

Reaves eyes took on a dangerous glint. "Why do you care?"

"Because I find it fascinating that someone of your lineage cares about two kids-unless there is something in it for you. Was your grandfather possessed by the type of demon that maybe fed off of little kids?"

The dark haired hunter felt an uncurling of rage in the pit of his gut. It took all he had not to reach out and snap the smug man's neck. "You don't know anything about me, Sawyer! Or those kids." Caleb wasn't about to explain the connection he felt to the Winchesters. The fact they were bound by similar fates, by potential horrors had only been hinted at.

"Right." Joshua grinned that infuriating frat-boy smile that always made Caleb want to shove a fist through his face. The preppy kids at the fancy schools Mac sent him to thought he was an outsider, too. Just like Sawyer did. "All of this is just a job to you."

"It is." Reaves lied. The Brotherhood was a whole hell of a lot more to him, but not because of any power position he was seeking. However, he wasn't going to spill his guts to Sawyer. He didn't owe the bastard any explanations and he'd learned a long time ago trusting the wrong person could come back to bite you in the ass.

"And them?" The older hunter glanced over his shoulder to where Dean and Sam were sleeping. "They're just a part of the job, too?"

"Leave them out of it." Caleb stepped closer to Sawyer. "Because I could still tell Jim that the mean old Black Dog drug your ass off to Grandma's house. Sam and Dean will back me up."

Sawyer shook his head. "I don't know what to think of you, man."

"Don't strain yourself trying to figure it out."

"Fisher and Ian think you're a plant of some kind. A demon hybrid spy. They think it was a mistake to let you into the inner-circle."

Caleb rolled his eyes at the mention of the other hunters. They were both about Sawyer's age, and had all grown up together in the Brotherhood. "Fisher and Ian can go fuck themselves." There was no love loss there. Of the three, Joshua had the most redeeming qualities-and that wasn't saying a whole hell of a lot.

Sawyer laughed, raked a hand through his short, spiky locks. "They can be dicks."

The psychic raised a brow, surprised at the blond hunter's reaction. "I thought you all were tight-the three fucking musketeers or something?"

Joshua shrugged, his ice-blue gaze locking with Reaves's skeptical one. "Looks can be deceiving, I guess. Maybe you don't know as much about me as you think you do."

"I know you seemed to be on their side when they chose to make their feelings about me working with Winchester known."

Sawyer frowned, looked away. "I was a kid."

At least he had the decency to look guilty. Still, Caleb wasn't in a forgiving mood. "And you're wise and weathered, now? It was three years ago."

Joshua finally looked at him, shrugged. "Never took you as the holding a grudge type. You should look at it as an initiation."

Reaves glanced back out into the inky blackness, snorted. An initiation that landed him in the hospital. "Whatever, dude."

"I'm going to get some shut-eye," Joshua said with a jaw-popping yawn. He met Caleb's cool gaze. "You take first watch."

"Yeah," Caleb replied with an amused smirk, before turning back to watch the dark woods.

"And Reaves?"

The psychic turned back around to look at Sawyer, raising a brow.

"What the kid said…I couldn't leave the circle. If I had, the spell would have been broken. My blood was the binding." He licked his lips. "He's a pain in the ass, but I didn't want the little punk to get hurt either. But I had to think of you and Sam, too. It's important to see the bigger picture sometimes."

Caleb nodded. "That whole 'the good of the many shit'…"

"Yeah." Sawyer smiled. "It sucks, I know, but Dad says it's for the best."

"He thinks it's a Knightly thing to do."

Joshua glanced away, the subject of his father uncomfortable at best. "I suppose."

"Well it's not." Caleb shook his head. That much he knew-had learned from John. "A Knight protects those around him, no matter the cost. He has a mission-a purpose. Let's nothing stand in the way of that."

"Even if that gets the Knight killed?" Sawyer rolled his eyes. "What if he makes the wrong choice?"

Reaves shrugged. "Sometimes one person is worth the risk." His gaze went to the boys asleep by the fire. His grip reflexively tightened on the gun, before glancing back to Joshua. "Sometimes there isn't a choice at all. There's just doing what's right."

"What's right and what you 'want' is not always the same thing." Joshua sighed when the other boy's gaze remained unyielding. He realized they were about to reach their usual impasse. "There's always a choice, Caleb, even if you refuse to acknowledge it or not."

Reaves shook his head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sawyer."

"Don't worry about my sleep, Reaves." Josh started for the fire, giving the other hunter a dubious look. "Just focus on keeping yourself awake and sharp, and stay in the circle. That's an order."

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Despite the dire circumstances and the frigid temperature, Joshua had been sleeping relatively well, even on the lumpy, cold ground. So, when the pitiful whimpering pulled him from his dreams of the last date he'd been on, he growled Reaves's name, even before his eyes were fully open.

The campfire had died down considerably, and Sawyer was not surprised that the setting for his subconscious romantic rendezvous with Liz had been a wintry wonderland of ice and snow. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced around the perimeter for the cause of his early exit from the temporary reprieve sleep had offered.

Dean was moving restlessly beneath Caleb's bulky jacket, and Sam had apparently just woken also, as he looked as disheveled and disoriented as Joshua felt. "What's going on, kid?"

The little boy looked Joshua's way, blinking owlishly before answering. "Where's…Caleb?"

"Now that's a good question." Sawyer pushed himself to his knees, scanned the circle more carefully. The glow of the protection ring gave off a nice nightlight-like aura and it didn't take but one sweep to realize there was no sign of the other man. "Fucking Reaves," Joshua swore, pushing himself the rest of the way to his feet.

Dean's distress rose in a crescendo, climaxing in a gasping breath that brought him jack-knifing up from the ground. "Sammy!" he shouted.

His brother reacted instantly, reaching out to the older boy. "I'm here, Dean. It's okay."

The ten-year-old cried out, as the pain from his sudden movement must have hit home. He fell back to the ground, Sam still trying to reassure him. "It's okay, Dean."

"Hey, take it easy." Joshua knelt beside the two, not liking the sickly pale gleam of the oldest Winchester's skin. "Just stay still."

Dean blinked, first looking at Sawyer and then fixing his fever-bright gaze on the five-year-old. "Sammy? You…okay?"

"Yeah." the little boy put a hand on his brother's head. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Joshua watched as the older boy licked his chapped lips, nodding slightly.

"The dog…" His words trailed off as he seemed to suddenly recall something important, and his eyes flew open again. "Where's Caleb?" Dean searched the area wildly, trying to maneuver himself to sitting position once more.

Sawyer sighed. Was there an echo? "Maybe _he_ had to go this time," he offered. The frown Sam shot him and the crazed look Dean was giving him, told him he had just failed miserably in the reassurance department.

Joshua shrugged. "Look-give me a break. I was asleep, too."

Sam rubbed at his eyes, again. "Did the Black Dog get him?" He asked with a shaky voice, and even Sawyer recognized the hint of tears.

He cursed Reaves for leaving him alone with the Winchesters. "No, Sam. I'm sure Caleb is fine."

"Where is he?" Dean asked again, and the older blond looked at him. His green eyes were glassy. He didn't even have to touch the boy to know he was burning up.

"He'll be back." He softened his tone, reading the misery in the kid's countenance. After all, he wasn't completely heartless. No matter what Reaves might think.

"Did…did you do something to him?" Dean asked then, accusation mixing oddly with fear and pain.

"What?" Josh shook his head, pulling his jacket around tighter. It was fucking freezing. "No."

"Liar!" Dean suddenly kicked out at him. Josh grabbed his arms, trying to keep him off of him.

"Where is he? What did you do?" The kid yelled and to Josh's surprise the slippery ten- year- old suddenly had a hold of his knife.

"What the fuck! Dean!" Joshua struggled to keep a grip on the boy, who was brandishing the blade with deadly intent. He almost had him under control when something clamped down on his forearm-Sam's incisors. "Ouch! You brat-you bit me!" Sawyer shook the five-year-old off, and tried to retain his grip on the other boy.

"Don't you touch my brother!" Dean yelled, continuing to fight in his fever-induced delirium.

The only thing the older hunter was thinking about when he grabbed the boy by the shoulders was stopping him before someone ended up getting stabbed. He didn't intend for his fingers to dig painfully into the wound, nor did he expect the reaction it elicited from the kid.

Dean screamed. Sam echoed his own misery with an empathetic howl of his own. Sawyer immediately released him, the kid falling back, holding his injured arm.

"What the hell is going on?" Caleb burst breathlessly from the woods, an armload of wood balanced precariously in one hand, the other brandishing the Glock he'd loaded with more silver rounds. "What's wrong?"

"Caleb," Sam cried, pointing a finger at Sawyer. "He hurt Dean."

The blond hunter raised his hands as he found the gun suddenly swung in his direction.

"Take it easy! All of you," he tried to reason.

"Back off." Reaves doubted Sawyer had it in him to hurt a child on purpose, but Dean was curled into a protective ball, sobbing, and something in Caleb snapped. "Now!" he growled, and Joshua scooted back on his haunches.

"Come on, Caleb!" Sawyer groaned. "You know me. I was trying to help. He was having a nightmare. I tried to help. The brat pulled my knife on me. He's out of his mind."

The psychic dropped the bundle of kindling near the dying embers of the fire, his eyes never leaving Joshua. "Deuce?"

"Did I let him get cold?" Sam cried, running his hand through his trembling brother's hair. "My Mercury was no good."

"It's okay, Sammy." Caleb finally put his gun away when Dean didn't answer him.

"Joshua's going to build the fire back up so we all get nice and warm." He glanced to Sawyer and then knelt beside of Dean, laying his fingers against the side of the kid's face.

"Shit," he hissed, feeling the heat radiating off of the older Winchester. "So much for Black Dogs not being poisonous."

"Dad?" Dean moaned, weakly.

Caleb gently rolled him over. "No such luck. It's just me."

The ten-year-old blinked, looking blearily up at Reaves. "Did Joshua kill you?"

Reaves laughed. "Do I look that bad, Deuce?"

When the boy didn't take such a blatant opportunity to insult him, Caleb got really worried. "Hey?" He laid his hand on the kid's forehead. "You still with us?"

"I'm cold," Dean whispered. "My arm…hurts."

"Yeah, I know." Caleb gently pulled back his flannel shirt, and grimaced when he saw the make-shift bandages were soaked through with blood. He bit his lip, glanced up to find Sammy watching him, with wide, un-blinking eyes full of unwarranted trust. It sent a pang of guilt knifing through his heart. "Hey, runt, grab that canteen again for me. Okay?"

The little boy nodded, and scrambled after the water. Reaves carefully lifted Dean up and rested him against his chest, wincing when the boy whimpered from the jostling. "Easy, Deuce. We need to get some water in you." What they needed was a doctor, and a nice, warm cabin.

Sam held the silver flask out to him and Caleb took it, holding it up for Dean. After only a couple of sips the kid coughed and turned his head away, burying his face in Reaves' shirt. "Come on, Deuce, you need to drink some more." Dehydration was going to be a real factor soon, along with shock and hypothermia. It was still hours before sunrise.

"No…" Dean mumbled, shaking his head. "I…feel sick."

"You've got to, Dean."

Reaves tried to force the canteen on the kid, but he resisted. Caleb felt the boy's hot fingers wrap around his wrist, weakly pushing him away. "Please Caleb…don't make me."

The psychic sighed, and relented. He rested his chin atop the kid's sweat-soaked hair, closed his eyes. "Great." So much for being able to handle things on his own. John was so going to kick his ass.

"We need to get him out of here. He needs a doctor."

The psychic whipped his head up, meeting the ice-blue gaze watching them. Oh, but he was so going to love beating the shit out of Sawyer first. "Thank you, Mister Obvious. But I fucking know that already." _God_. He wasn't an idiot.

"He's going to die if we don't do something."

"Dean's going to die?" Sam asked, practically crawling into Caleb's lap beside his brother. He reached out and latched onto the other boy. Reaves had to reign his temper back in, before he did something to Joshua they would all regret.

"No, Sammy. Josh is just over-reacting." The psychic used his free arm to grab his jacket that had been tossed aside in all the excitement, and brought it up around the two boys.

"You know what that is. Right?"

Sam looked up at him. "Like what Daddy does when the Sox lose a game?"

Reaves continued to glare at Sawyer as he ran his fingers over Sam's hair in what he hoped was a consoling manner. After all, he sucked at this stuff. "Yeah. You'd think the world was about to end. Huh?"

The little boy nodded against Caleb's shoulder. "Mac says he gets a little cuckoo." Sam used his finger to make a looping motion at the side of his head.

Reaves laughed. "Mac would know. I bet he'd tell us that old Josh is just being a little cuckoo. That's all."

"I may be crazy, but you know I'm right about needing to get the hell out of here." The last thing Joshua wanted was to have the death of one of John Winchester's children on his hands.

"I don't know how to manage that at the moment," Reaves added more calmly, for Sam's benefit, but the steadiness in his voice didn't mask the helplessness he was feeling. "But if you've come up with a sudden stroke of genius, please do share."

Joshua bent down in front of the fire, tossing another log into the growing flames. "I know you can't control your visions, but aren't you some kind of telepath, too?"

"Sort of," Reaves sighed, knowing what Sawyer was getting at. He'd just started exploring that side of his abilities. "I've worked on it with Mac some, but never at these distances. It won't work." His father told him his _gifts_ held boundless potential and with work he would some day do amazing things. But for now, parlor tricks and annoying visions he didn't want in the first place was all he was blessed with.

"How do you know if you haven't tried?" Josh jutted his chin to the Winchesters. "I know you and the Hardy Boys had some kind of weird silent communication going on last night when you kicked mine and Jim's ass in UNO."

Caleb shook his head, remembering how he and Dean had cheated. "Kids are different," Reaves explained. The Winchesters were different. "They're more open to psychic interaction. Mac says they haven't built up all those defenses that adults have." Dean shivered again and Caleb pulled him closer, trying to offer whatever body heat he could.

"But John and Boone…that's a different kind of animal all together, man. They're trained hunters."

Joshua looked at Reaves, and then to the boys. Dean's face was deathly pale against the dark blue of Reaves' shirt, his long lashes standing out starkly against his flushed cheeks. Sam was curled in the crook of Caleb's other shoulder, but his gold-flecked brown eyes were locked on Sawyer, reminding the older man of a sad-looking puppy. "Animals…" Joshua muttered out of the blue, and the psychic frowned at him.

"What?"

"You said John and Boone were a different kind of animal."

"Yeah, so?"

"So…what about animals?" The blond pointed at his own head. "They're more open to psychic connections, too. Right? I mean don't wolves use telepathy to communicate? With each other…even their prey?"

"I guess," Caleb replied, cautiously. He wondered if Sawyer knew what he'd done to the Black. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You could contact Atticus. He's with Jim and the others."

Reaves brow furrowed and he snorted. "You want me to connect with a Golden Retriever? Are you kidding me? Do I look like the Beastmaster to you, Sawyer?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"You can talk to Atticus?" Sam asked, looking hopefully up at Caleb. "Tell him to bring Daddy here, Caleb. Please."

"Sammy," Reaves sighed. "I don't know if I can talk to Atticus. I've never tried." Sure, he'd connected with the Black Dog, but that hadn't really been a freakin' conversation. He'd just barely touched the monster's thoughts for a distraction. And it hadn't been pleasant.

But the five-year-old continued to stare at him with the patented 'Sammy' face. "You can do it. I know you can. It'll be a piece of pie." The little boy tossed his own words back at him-sort of. "Just think doggy thoughts."

Sawyer snorted. "Yeah, Timmy, channel your inner-Lassie."

Dean clung to him tighter, his hot skin easily permeating through the thin tee Caleb was wearing. The sick kid mumbled something in his sleep and Reaves groaned, not believing what he was about to do. "You better hope this works, Josh." He glanced at Sam and then back to the blond hunter. "Because if not, your going to get to see how well that tracking device of yours works in the dead of night-Black Dog be-damned."

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A/N: I'm sorry that Dragons will be a little delayed this week. But I hope this chapter kind of makes up for it. Thanks so much for all the reviews. And thanks to Tidia for an excellent job of beta-ing this. Even though she shakes her head every time it continues to grow...bg. It's a backstory, Ridley!!!


	4. Chapter 4

"**_You_** knew better than this!" John Winchester stormed around the small living area of the remote hunting cabin. He alternated between raking his hands through his dark hair and rubbing them roughly over his bearded face. "What the hell were you thinking, Caleb?"

John didn't even want to look at the psychic. Every time he did his blood pressure shot up a few digits. All he could see through the red-haze of anger was the image of his ten-year-old son, bloodied and broken, cradled in Caleb's arms.

He and the others had burst into the eerily glowing clearing a few hours before dawn, expecting the worst. But Winchester hadn't been prepared for one of his children to be so close to death.

The former Marine didn't give the young man time to answer before he stopped his pacing in front of him. "Never mind. You weren't thinking!" he barked. "Because if you had been thinking you would have realized that taking my sons out into the woods to hunt for a Black Dog was completely unacceptable."

Reaves tried to look anywhere but at Winchester. Of course it was hard considering the man was mere inches from his face, in full-blown drill sergeant mode. It was useless to give him the lame excuse he had run over and over in his head as they had trudged silently back to the cabin. Honestly, he had never meant for their little excursion to turn into a hunt, but he'd been around enough to know things rarely worked out the way they were suppose to. And Dean paid the price for his idiotic decision. No lame excuse, no matter how sincere, was going to make that right. "I'm sorry."

"Damn right you're sorry. I trusted you," John hissed. "I thought you could handle a simple order."

"I did follow orders," Reaves finally snapped. "You told me to stay with the boys. I did stay with them."

"In the cabin!" John roared. "I told you to stay here!"

"That wasn't exactly what you said," Joshua spoke up, bringing all eyes to him.

Boone Adams shook his head at the stupid kid's ignorance and continued cleaning his colt revolver in silence. Jim had ordered him to play referee while he was patching up Dean, but he had no desire to tangle with a riled grizzly at the moment. After all, unlike Joshua, _he _knew when to keep his damn mouth shut.

"Stay out of this!" Winchester barked. Sawyer gave Caleb a sympathetic look, as he retreated back to his side of the room. At least he'd tried.

The livid man turned back to Reaves. "Dean could have been killed! He looks up to you-tries to do what you do." He shook his head. "And Sammy…he's a baby. We could have lost them. "

John was too angry to mention the fact that Caleb could have also been hurt. How in the hell would he have explained that to Mackland? The man trusted him to look out for the kid. "This mess of yours could have turned out a whole hell of a lot worse. I'm just glad they made it out alive."

When they first arrived back to the cabin and found it empty, John had convinced himself the boys had conned Caleb into taking them fishing. Then it had started to grow dark. Soon after Atticus had started acting up, pawing at his head, howling. It was like some warped scene out of _Lassie, _but something inside of him had just known the boys were in trouble. "I should have known something like this would happen."

"And how many times have **you** screwed up?" Caleb growled, growing very tired of being dressed down in front of the other hunters-who were by all means practically strangers. John was treating him like a kid, and it struck a chord deep inside-feeling too much like betrayal. "I know how to take care of them."

"I'm their father!" John roared.

"When it's convenient!"

Boone lifted his gaze, raised one fiery-red brow as he watched Winchester's face blanch. His muscles tensed, ready to intervene on the fool-hearty pup's behalf if need be. He gave Reaves credit. The kid had guts. But that wouldn't get him very far if he was dead.

John wrapped his hands in the younger hunter's shirt, slammed him roughly against the mortar and log wall behind them. Atticus whined fretfully, trying to shift his large body in between the two. Winchester ignored the dog, giving Caleb another hard shove. "This isn't about me! If you'd done **your** job, then Dean wouldn't be in there burning up with fever, being stitched together like one of Sam's torn-up stuffed toys. Me and Boone might have found the Black, instead of having to track your asses down. You can't even take care of yourself! I never should have brought you."

Hurt flashed through the liquid amber eyes and Caleb blinked away the rush of pain. "I sure the hell didn't ask to come!" he snarled, shoving Winchester out of his personal space, breaking the older man's hold. "And I didn't ask to be your damn nanny either! Next time get Joshua or one of the other 'grown-ups' to take care of your boys. I don't want anything else to do with them-or you."

With that he pushed past John and stormed outside, leaving Atticus to whimper and paw at the door in his wake.

"You handled that well," Joshua sighed, and frowned when Boone's big-footed boot struck out and banged against his shin. "Ow."

"You got something to say, Sawyer?" Winchester turned on the blond, giving him a look that would have sent older, wiser men shrinking away with their tails between their legs.

"Actually," Boone cleared his throat, loudly, but Joshua ignored him, "I was just going to say how I always kind of envied Reaves…until now." Sawyer took a few steps in John's direction, but stayed out of striking distance. "I mean somehow he ends up in the inner-circle of the Brotherhood, saunters in like he was born to be here-which we all know he wasn't."

"He has as much right as you," John snapped. He could say whatever the hell he wanted about the kid, _to_ the kid, but he'd be damned if he let anyone else bad mouth one of his own. Especially if that someone was a Sawyer.

"I don't think so." Josh shook his head. "My family has been hunters for generations." The kid raised his hands in the air and laughed. "My grandfather was a Knight. That's all my father has ever wanted for me. But that's not going to happen. Is it?"

Winchester looked away, and the younger man continued. "You don't have to answer that because I know the truth, but you know what? If working with the great John Winchester means being ripped to shreds on a daily basis, trying to live up to some impossible standard, then I'm glad I don't measure up. Reaves is a much better man for that job than me."

Joshua started out of the room, but then stopped and faced John once more. "And I don't know if this even matters to you, but Caleb risked his life to save your children. Even before the Black reared its head, he watched out for them. And trust me when I say this, they aren't exactly bundles of sunshine."

He shook his head. "For some reason, that I can't fathom, he apparently is attached to them-whether that's something you've ingrained or he just happens to care about them, I'm not sure. But I'd say either way-they're pretty lucky to have him on their side."

Jim Murphy cleared his throat then, bringing all eyes to him. He was standing unnoticed in the doorway of the small bedroom. "I have a patient trying to rest, you know. All the yelling isn't really helping."

"Jim?" John hesitantly moved forward, his face full of haggard worry. "How is he?"

The priest smiled, but the slight slump of his shoulders, and missing twinkle in his blue eyes revealed his own concerns. "I think he'll be fine. The wounds are taken care of and his fever is coming down." He nodded to Joshua. "That herbal concoction worked wonders, my boy."

Sawyer shrugged. "You had all the ingredients."

"Thank you," John said, sincerely, looking from Jim to the younger man. "Both of you."

"He's still awake if you want to see him."

Winchester gave a quick nod and moved past the minister, and into the small lantern-lit room. Two sets of bunk-beds, an overflowing bookshelf and one nightstand filled the tiny space. John wasn't surprised to find both his boys crowded into one of the bottom bunks. He sat on the side nearest Dean. "You don't have to play possum, Sammy. I won't make you move."

Both boys opened their eyes and his youngest son peeked up at him from beneath the quilt, but didn't move from his spot curled near his brother. John ran his hand over his eldest's hair, who blinked dazedly up at him. "How you doing, Ace?" He looked better since being cleaned up. Some of his color had returned and he wasn't trembling.

"I'm good, Dad,"

John laughed, cursing the stinging he could feel starting behind his eyes. "Sure you are kiddo." Stitched and drugged was not fine in his book. What the hell kind of parent was he?

"Are you mad at me?"

"What?" John frowned, snapping from his self-incriminating thoughts. He rubbed a hand over his bearded face. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"You were yelling." Dean swallowed thickly, fighting the tug of sleep now that his body was warm and the pain had been dulled by Jim's care.

"Everything sounds loud in this box, son."

"You were yelling at Caleb," Sam spoke up quietly. John didn't miss the accusing look in the little boy's gaze.

"He didn't follow orders. That gets people hurt, Sammy. It got your brother hurt."

"I didn't follow orders, Dad," Dean said, weakly.

"Caleb was in charge, son."

"I know. And he told me to stay in the protection circle while he went after Sammy."

"What do you mean?"

"I had to go!" Sam wailed as if he was spilling his guts to a grilling detective holding a white-hot light over his head. "I couldn't hold it, so I went off by myself. I'm sorry. I didn't want Dean to get hurt, and Caleb to get in big trouble." A few fat tears zigzagged down his flushed cheeks. "He don't want to be our friend no more. He hates us."

John sighed. "None of that matters. He should have never taken you out into those woods."

"It was stupid Joshua's idea." Dean said, softly. "He kept bragging how he was going to find the Black's lair-get a real Hunter's ring."

"He couldn't find his own ass in the dark," Sam added, confidently.

"Samuel!" John admonished, and didn't miss the guilt that flashed across his older son's face. No need to wonder about where the five-year-old had heard that poignant observation.

Sam burrowed under the covers again before meekly replying. "Well…it's true. His toy was broken."

The oldest Winchester looked at Dean. "What's he talking about?"

"Josh had a tracking thing. Caleb told him not to go, but he wouldn't listen."

John looked down at the floor, rubbed a hand over the taunt muscles in the back of his neck. "So, Caleb went with him." First rule he'd driven into Caleb's brain. He was never to hunt alone.

Dean nodded. "Told you it was big shot Josh's fault."

"Caleb still should have known better than to take you boys in the first place."

"But he saved us, Daddy." Sam pointed out. "Joshua was going to make us swim across a giant river." He waited for his father to look at him, and widened his eyes for effect. "And I can't even swim!"

"And he shot the Black," Dean added, softly. "He took care of me, even without the supplies he'd packed. I took the first aid kit out of the bag," the ten-year-old explained when his father raised a questioning brow.

John shook his head, held up a hand. "I think I get the picture boys."

"See." Sam looked at him. "I think Joshua should get a time out."

"He's a little big for a time out, Sammy."

"You could scream at him like you did Caleb."

"I wasn't screaming at Caleb. At least I didn't _mean_ to scream at him."

Now Dean glanced up at his father. "Did he mean what he said…about not wanting to be around us anymore?"

John shook his head. "He's just pissed at me, Ace." Really pissed and hurt.

"Are you going to say you're sorry?" Sam asked, hopefully.

The oldest Winchester sighed heavily. "Apparently, I have no choice in the matter."

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John hesitated at the door, glancing down at Atticus who was still sitting there, looking forlornly up at the handle, as if he was willing it to open. The dog hadn't wanted to let the young hunter out of his site after their whole mind-melding experience. "I guess you couldn't get a mental reading on our boy or anything could you?"

The dog looked up at him, thumped his tail against the floor.

"Right." Winchester grabbed his coat from the peg on the wall and picked up Jim's heavy hunting jacket also. "Let's go get Timmy out of the fucking well."

It didn't take them long to find him. He was only fifty yards away resting against the large pile of firewood Jim kept stacked under a homemade lean-to. The idiot was still in short-sleeves and John could tell by the way he had his arms wrapped across his chest he was freezing.

"Here," Winchester shoved Jim's jacket in his direction. "You're risking hypothermia, especially considering you were out in the elements for hours without proper gear."

Reaves took the coat, but gave him a withering look as he slipped into it. "You come out here to lecture me about proper gear now? I'm sorry I forgot the fucking first aid kit."

He'd already been reamed a new one for that. Atticus pawed at Reaves until he bent down to pet him.

"Dean said he took it out."

Caleb rolled his eyes, continuing to give the Retriever a rub-down. "Well, Deuce is delirious with fever."

"Not now. He's doing a lot better."

Reaves shrugged. "Thanks to Josh's little witch's brew."

"Thanks to you shooting that Black Dog."

The psychic looked up at him, going still. "I didn't kill it."

John sighed. Maybe Sawyer was right about the impossible standard thing. "You kept it from killing Dean. That's all that matters." A small point he chose to ignore earlier. Sometimes it was easy to forget Caleb was just eighteen, he was still figuring things out.

Caleb stood back up, Atticus leaning into his long, jean-clad legs. "I thought I put him in needless danger, risked his and Sammy's life for a stupid, boyish competition."

"You did."

Reaves shook his head. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry again. Not to you." He'd tell Dean, in his own way. Make it up to him in his own time.

"I don't want you to say you're sorry. I want you to learn from what happened. Do better next time."

Caleb raised a brow. "Next time? I thought you didn't trust me anymore, Johnny."

"I was pissed at you…still am…but that doesn't change the fact that I know you."

The psychic met his gaze, his jaw clenched. "Then you should know I'd have done anything to keep Dean from getting hurt." He looked away, raked a hand through his dark hair. "I'd rather it have been me."

"Then I would be dealing with Mac," John said. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kid, I can be an ass."

Reaves met his gaze once more. "As if I haven't noticed." His mouth twitched. "After all, I know you, too."

John laughed. "Yeah, I guess you do." There was an awkward moment of silence and Winchester shoved his hand in his jacket pocket, pulled out a small black bag, which he tossed to Reaves. "This is yours, by the way."

Caleb clumsily caught the pouch, shooting him a confused look. He opened it and a silver ring lay inside. "What…" He glanced back up at the older hunter, blinking in confusion. "I thought Jim doled these babies out." He'd busted his ass to impress the minister every chance he got, and now _John _gave him the ring.

Winchester favored him with a rare grin, as if he could read his mind. "He does, but this is a little different. I've been holding onto this for you for a while. He thought I should do the honors when I thought the time was right."

Caleb frowned, realizing what John was saying. "How long is a while?"

John raised a brow. "A while." He was thankful the kid didn't press it. They had all decided it was too much pressure to put on the next generation to know their destined positions, to learn of the roles they would someday play.

"And you've chosen _this _heartwarming moment to give it to me?" When Winchester remained silent, Reaves sighed, realizing he was banging his head against a brick wall. It didn't matter. He had a ring now. His very own ring. He was a part of something-he had brothers. Something bigger than himself. "Does this mean I can go solo now?"

Winchester snorted. "Hell no. It does not mean that."

The psychic shrugged. "Whatever." He stared at the ring again, opening and closing his hand to get use to the feel of it on his finger.

"Look, kid…"

Caleb forced his eyes from the silver circle, grinned. "That's _**Hunter** _ki_d _to you."

"And to think Mac thought this would make you even more cocky and reckless."

The eighteen-year-old tried to keep the grin off his face. "You were saying?"

"I was saying…I was pretty hard on you back there."

"Compared to how you usually coddle me?" Caleb snorted. "I'm kind of use to the whole tough love thing, _Sir_."

John raised a brow. "You're definitely a pain in the ass you know that?"

"Yeah, well, now I'm a pain in the ass with a ring."

"And you deserve it."

That shut him up and he stared at John. "Do you really believe that?"

Winchester shook his head. "I wouldn't have given it to you if I didn't, Junior. And just so you know, I wouldn't be so hard on your ass if I didn't think you were going to be a damn great hunter some day." It wasn't an apology, but it was their way.

Caleb must have agreed because the cocky grin was back. "As good as you?"

John rolled his eyes. "In theory, the student should surpass the teacher."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Winchester took a breath, let it out slowly. "Look, Caleb…I know you care about the boys."

Reaves' brow furrowed, and he shot him another serious frown. "What boys?"

Winchester sighed deeply and the psychic's mouth twitched. "You mean _your _boys?" He shrugged. "I can tolerate them…on good days."

"Yeah, well they think you've washed your hands of them."

"Is that an option that comes with the ring? No more adventures in babysitting?"

"I'm being serious. Sammy thinks you don't like them anymore."

"Sammy jumps to conclusions like his old man."

"It's in the genes."

"Or the maturity level."

"Will you let them know that you're still going to be around to torment them?"

Caleb nodded, shrugged. "It is kind of my job."

John held his gaze. "I guess it is." Someday, it would be a full-time responsibility. A Knight's mission. "So, you'll go get my ass out of the sling?"

Reaves grinned. "I suppose I should return the favor."

The younger hunter started for the cabin, but John reached out and caught his jacket. "And, Caleb?"

The kid stopped, favoring John with a curious look, "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you made it out of this okay, too."

Caleb smirked. "You're not going to hug me are you?" He glanced down at the Golden

Retriever still shadowing him. "Because I've already got one admirer out of the deal."

John snorted, letting him go. "I think I can control myself." He shook his head. "But what the hell did you do to Atticus?"

Reaves grinned. "Hell if I know. Maybe my distress signal sounded like a mating call. Dr. Doolittle I am not."

"Maybe you should ask Mackland about it."

"And have him do a whole new chapter of research on me? No thanks." Caleb walked away, Atticus by his side.

"Yeah, just think of all the experiments he could come up with."

Reaves stopped, and returned to where John was standing. "Don't even think about telling him."

"What's it worth to you?" Winchester rocked back on his heels.

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Hey, whatever it takes. Good babysitters are hard to come by these days. Especially cheap ones."

"God, you're a bastard."

"That's _Senior Hunter _bastard to you, rookie."

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_a/n: A _big thank you to Tidia for beta-ing this, and adding her helpful suggestions. I will not post another thing without letting her do that after I made quite a few errors on the last chapter of Dragons. Thanks to all who pointed those out. Ti was not happy with me. Bg. Also thanks to her for giving me one of my favorite lines of this chapter. Caleb's whole, that's 'Hunter' kid to you was her. And it inspired John's comeback at the end. Only one more chapter in this one to go. And Dragons should be up soon. Not to mention the Thanksgiving fic. Let's see if I can pull it all together? I'll give it a good shot, anyway. And last but never least, thank you to all those that have reviewed. I've tried to get back with everyone, and have been doing a better job at it, but in case I missed you. THANKS!


	5. Chapter 5

Jim was sitting with his back to the door when Caleb entered, a cold wind sending several leaves scattering across the floor from outside. He closed the door quickly to keep the heat in and his new best friend Atticus out. Three long strides brought him to the kitchen area where the pastor was studying a topographical map spread out on the table.

Reaves clasped a hand on the man's shoulder as he leaned over him to point at a spot to the east of their location. "The big bad Black Dog lives here."

Jim looked up at him over the rim of his glasses, perched precariously on his nose. "Not for long, my boy. Not for long."

Caleb grinned, giving the older man's arm a squeeze before moving around to take a seat in one of the other chairs. "You know if you had told me that all I had to do was royally screw up to get a ring, I could have obliged a long time ago."

"What would have been the fun in that?"

The dark haired teen shook his head, never really knowing if the pastor was joking or not. He glanced towards the main area of the cabin and could see and hear Joshua and Boone clearly. The blond was gesturing with his hands as he spoke, and it only took a moment for Reaves to pick up on why the other boy was imitating a newly engaged girl. "I see the same principle applied to Sawyer." There was a ring on Joshua's right hand. _Damn it. _

"It seemed the appropriate time. Yes."

The psychic frowned. "Who did the honors for him?"

Jim raised a curious brow. "I did, as with most new hunters."

Caleb held his twinkling blue gaze. "But not with me?"

"It seemed right that John be the one."

"What exactly does that mean, Jim?"

"What do you think it means, my boy?"

Reaves rubbed at his neck, starting to feel the adrenaline hangover more prevalently. "I don't know."

"Hmmm," Jim glanced to the map. "And here I thought you were a psychic."

"But Jim…I'm…" Reaves hesitated, and the pastor looked back up at him.

"You're a what?"

The boy shrugged, his warm eyes not quite meeting Murphy's this time. "You know."

The older man reached out and covered Caleb's hand with his own. "What I know is that you have grown into a fine young man." He waited for Reaves to finally look at him before continuing. "I know that I trust you with my life, but more importantly with the lives of the other hunters in the Brotherhood."

"How can you say that? I almost got Dean and Sammy killed. I risked their lives, and they're just kids."

"It is in the darkest moments that a man's true character shines through, Caleb." Jim shook his head, patted the boy's hand before removing his touch. "I have no doubt that your intentions were pure, even if your actions were rather foolhardy."

"My intentions weren't exactly like the fresh fallen snow." Caleb swallowed thickly. "At least not before Dean got hurt. I wanted to prove myself to you and John. I didn't want Josh to come off smelling like a rose."

"Sometimes we must lose our way to get on the right path. Now you realize what is truly important-what is at stake."

"But at what cost?"

Jim smiled sadly. "Growing up is rarely painless, I'm afraid. One is bound to acquire a fair amount of bumps and bruises along the way."

"But I wasn't the one that got hurt."

"It is a sad fact we learn more from watching those we care about suffer from our mistakes."

"It's not worth it." Caleb shook his head. "Dean…"

"Dean will be fine," Jim interrupted him, with a confident look that provided no argument.

"He is a Winchester, after all."

Caleb smiled slightly. The man had a point there. "Yeah. I'm willing to bet that old Black has one hell of a belly ache."

"No doubt." Murphy went back to his perusal of the map.

"Jim?"

"Hmmm?" Jim continued to outline the trap they would set for the Black.

"Couldn't you have waited just one more day to give Sawyer his ring?"

The pastor raised his gaze and gave the kid a 'you're pushing your luck' kind of glare.

Reaves's half-grin spread. He raised his hands in a surrender gesture. "Just kidding." Caleb stood up and slid his chair back under the table. "After all I still beat him by five years."

Jim shook his head as he watched the psychic walk away. "Boys," he sighed, and returned to his work.

Joshua glanced Caleb's way as he entered the room. The blond was still talking animatedly, making it impossible for the other young hunter to miss the silver band on his finger. Reaves shoved his own hands in his coat pockets and rolled his eyes.

Boone gave him a pained grimace in return. "Glad to see you're still in one piece, kid."

Caleb shrugged. "Yeah, Johnny just took a couple of swings. He didn't want to piss Mac off."

"Don't blame him there. Your daddy can be a mean sonofabitch when he wants to be. Never underestimate anyone with access to a scalpel and hard drugs-not to mention the whole 'looks could kill' thing." Boone rubbed a big meaty hand over his thick red beard. "There was this one time up in Philly…"

"Did Dean just call for me?" The psychic asked suddenly, cocking his head to one side as if he were straining to hear. He really wasn't in the mood for one of Cazlin's good ol' day stories.

Boone listened for a moment then shook his head. "I didn't hear anything."

Caleb tapped his head. "Must be the psychic hot-line. I better go check on him just in case."

"You do that, kid."

Joshua snorted. "Maybe he should consider child care instead of Legos as his college major."

Reaves pretended he didn't hear the dig, continuing on towards the bedroom. But he grinned when he heard Boone tell the other hunter to grow the hell up.

The door to the room squeaked when he pushed it open, but neither small body moved on the bunk bed the brothers shared. Reaves almost turned around, deciding he could set them straight on the whole misunderstanding later, but a blurred image of large, blood-covered fangs and a flash of black flooded through his mind at the same time as a soft whimper met his ears. Dean was dreaming.

He quietly made his way to the boys, still picking up on images of the nightmare. His palms began to sweat. He had to push the intense feeling of fear away as he kept himself planted in reality. The ten-year-old was moving restlessly now, and Caleb had barely ghosted his fingers over Dean's hair, when the kid awoke with a start. "No. Sammy!" He gasped, trying to sit up.

"Hey." Reaves put a hand on the younger boy's chest, holding him still so he wouldn't pull any stitches. He carefully sat down on the bed "Deuce, take it easy. Sammy's fine."

"Caleb?" Dean licked his lips, blinking owlishly as his little brother stirred next to him, but didn't awake. The ten-year-old glanced towards the younger boy and relaxed back on the mattress in relief. He looked up at the psychic. "What…where are we?"

The eighteen-year-old frowned. "The hunting cabin. Remember?"

Finally, the boy nodded. "Yeah."

"You okay?" There was still a haunted look on the kid's face, as if he still wasn't quite awake.

"The Black…"

"Isn't here. You were dreaming," Caleb assured. "No way that thing will come around here. And Boone and your Dad will go finish it tonight."

"Okay."

Reaves went to remove his touch, not liking the open connection it still allowed. The little boy's fear was still strong, and foreign.

Caleb wasn't afraid of much. Things that made up nightmares and horror movies had been a part of his life for almost as long as he could remember. The psychic took a deep breath, as Dean actually reestablished the link by grabbing his hand before he could move it completely away. "Don't go."

Reaves swallowed thickly. He whispered that same thing to Dean as the kid had gone still in his arms in those hours before John had shown up. The boy's fever had gotten high, his breathing shallow and labored. Sam had nearly been hysterical. Caleb had been terrified. Because there was one monster he couldn't quite come to terms with. _Death. _The beast he couldn't slay. Something he couldn't keep the people he cared about safe from. "I'm not going anywhere, kiddo."

Usually he would have given the boy hell over the whole trembling lip, death grip, and touchy-feely shit, but he couldn't bring himself to even fake it. After all, Caleb might not have feared for his own life, but he was constantly haunted by the fragility of those few people he gave a damn about. People could disappear in a blink of an eye.

"You still pissed at us?" Dean asked, softly, his voice still weak and scratchy.

The psychic sighed. "Dude, I'm not mad." Caleb's parents had been taken in an instant, gone in a blurry flash of blood and gore. He could still see it if he tried hard enough. Then there was his grandmother. He hadn't been much older than Dean.

The ten-year-old looked up at him through unguarded green eyes. "You look mad."

He sounded so worried, and un-Dean like that Caleb forced a half-grin. "It's called _brooding_, Deuce. And women eat it up. Trust me. I'll teach you how to pull it off so that you have them dropping at your feet."

"I'm ten."

Reaves used his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair. "You won't always be ten." Just like luck wouldn't always be on their side. Like John wouldn't always be around to come to the rescue.

Words like _always_, _forever_ and _safe_ couldn't be trusted. They had a habit of disappearing too, crumbling beneath your feet. They were made to only hold together happily-ever-after stories like the fairy tales Jim Murphy weaved for them.

"But I'll always be a pain in your ass."

That was more like it. Caleb feigned surprise. "You read minds now, Deuce? I was just thinking that." Thinking wasn't actually the word for it. Praying was closer. It had been so close this time. John was right. They could have lost both of them.

"Just yours, Damien." The smart-ass remark brought his gaze from Sam and back to his brother.

The psychic shook his head. "Yeah? You know what I'm thinking now?" God he hoped not. If Dean ever got an idea of how important he was, he'd torture Caleb mercilessly. Any authority he held over the boy would vanish.

A hint of the usual shit-eating grin appeared on the kid's face. "Something about Lassie and Rin Tin Tin."

Caleb groaned. "Oh really."

A muffled giggle erupted from beneath the quilt and Reaves reached over and grabbed one visible, sock-covered foot, tickling it mercilessly. "You were sworn to secrecy, Runt. I recall a pinky swear."

"I can't lie to Dean." Sam squealed, peeking up at Reaves and jerking his foot away. "He asked me what happened."

"And you couldn't have conveniently left that part out?"

"Why leave out the best part?" Joshua entered the room, with a cocky swagger. "All you need is a couple of ferrets and a sword, and you'll have a good gig going on. I can't wait to tell Ian and Fisher."

Caleb shared a look with Dean. "And here he is now, the newly pinned sorority girl."

Dean frowned, and Reaves glanced back over his shoulder. "Go ahead and show it to them so they can get some sleep."

"Show us what?" Sam sat up, peering intently at the blond through the darkness. "Did Daddy hit you? Have you got a black eye?"

Caleb snorted at the barely contained glee, but Joshua didn't seem too deterred. "For your information, young Winchester, you are looking at the newest member of the Brotherhood."

He lifted his hand, flashing his silver ring. "Jim let you in the club?" Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. "For getting us lost?"

"No," Joshua snapped. "For protecting you."

"You remember, Deuce." Caleb nodded, with a grin. "When he wiggled his nose and recited that spell."

"Incantation," Sawyer corrected, smartly. "I don't do spells."

Reaves looked at him. "And here I thought that's why Jim _finally_ gave you your ring. Because you were being true to your gifts…not trying to pretend to be something you aren't." Caleb's grin widened as Joshua's face flushed. "Plus you tried to cover my ass. Thanks, by the way."

Joshua's frown grew. That was exactly what Jim had told him, which meant only one thing. Reaves was reading him. "Does privacy mean nothing to you, heathen?"

Caleb shrugged, glanced around the room. "I could ask you the same thing, bad manners? No one invited you in."

Sawyer shook his head. "I have as much right to be here as you do."

Reaves raised a brow. "Right back at you, _Josh_."

The blond rolled his eyes, not even bothering to clarify the distasteful shortening of his given name. "Whatever."

"Do you have a broom?" Sam asked, suddenly as if he had been pondering the question for a while. "Or a cat? Because most witches do."

Caleb couldn't hold his laughter, as Joshua's mouth actually dropped open and then closed, with a lack of response. It was bad enough to be out-mouthed by Dean…but Sam. "He must, Sammy, because apparently it's gotten his tongue."

"I'm not a witch," Joshua denied, obviously flustered. "I just…it's only…I know witch-like things." He sighed. "Why am I even explaining myself to you? You're five."

"Wait much longer and everything he says will be over your head, Sawyer."

Joshua sighed, quickly tiring of the verbal sparring. Reaves could be mentally taxing. Add in his sidekicks and he was exhausting. "The only reason I came in was to tell you John and Boone want to talk to you about the Dog's lair. We'll be leaving as soon as it's dark."

Caleb felt Dean's hand tighten around his once more, and he could sense Sam's eyes on him as well. Joshua was still an idiot, despite what he might have done for him and the boys. "I'll be out in a minute."

He waited for the blond hunter to leave before he turned back to the boys, with a wry grin. "Poor bastard, I was afraid he was going to get his pension before he got a ring."

"You said Dad and Boone were going after it." Dean ignored the humor diversion.

"They are." Reaves shrugged. "I'm just going for back-up."

"You think the Black is still out there? You think Joshua was right about there being more than one?"

Dean's breath had quickened and there was a hint of fear in his gaze again. Caleb shook his head. "Black Dogs don't usually hunt in packs, Deuce. He's getting them confused with Hell Hounds. This mutt is a loner and thanks to me, he's packing some silver. That'll slow him down."

"I don't want you and Daddy to go," Sam spoke up. "Who's going to watch out for us?"

"Pastor Jim will be here, Runt."

"You could stay," Dean said, tightly. "It doesn't take three hunters to take out one Dog. And Josh is the one with the ring now. He should go."

"I know where the lair is," Caleb pointed out. "You know Sawyer will never get them there."

"Because he can't find his own ass in the dark?" Sam queried, and Reaves laughed.

"You got that right, Sammy." He glanced back at Dean and bobbed his eyebrows. "Besides, Sawyer's not the only one to get a ring."

Caleb held his free hand up, flashing the silver proudly. "I'm an official hunter now."

"No way." Dean's eyes widened.

"Yep. You two are the first to know."

"But you're still a kid," Sam stated.

"Am not." Reaves looked insulted. "I'm eighteen."

"But I'm the one who got bitten." Dean frowned. " I should get a ring, too."

"It's not a purple heart, Deuce. Besides you have to at least be tall enough to ride all the roller coasters at Disney before you get one of these babies. It's a rule."

"Bite me," Dean mumbled, glancing away.

"Now-now. There's been enough of that for one night."

The older Winchester favored him with a patented glare and it was so much better than seeing the previous look of fear and worry. "I'm just glad you and Joshua got a prize."

Caleb's smile faded, his relief disappearing along with it. "That's not funny, Deuce."

Dean swallowed hard, glancing down at the blanket covering him. "Sorry." Sammy curled closer to the older boy, not really understanding why his big brother was upset, but sensing he was, just the same. "It's just…"

Reaves sighed. He and Dean had a lot more in common than he wanted to admit. "Look, Deuce, it's okay. There's nothing to worry about. Nothing's going to happen to anybody."

Caleb raked a hand over his face, still feeling the fear rolling off the oldest boy. An idea occurred to him then and he reached down to his pant leg, pulling the leather case he kept strapped around his ankle free. "It's not a ring, but it's kind of a rite of passage. Your Dad gave it to me when I killed my first werewolf." He tugged the large silver blade from its sheath, handing it hilt first to Dean.

"Cool," Dean breathed, taking the knife, and looking at it in awe.

"You can keep it under your pillow, just in case. It'll keep you and Sam safe."

"Thanks." Dean glanced up at him then. "But I still think I should have gotten a ring."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I'll buy you a couple boxes of Cracker Jacks. Maybe you'll get lucky."

"I like Cracker Jacks, too." Sam said, pointedly, and the older boy shook his head.

"I'll remember that, Runt." Reaves stood and pulled the blankets up around them. "Now go to sleep."

The ten-year-old looked up at him. "You know that thing doesn't make you bullet proof, right?"

The psychic rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it came with a warning, John Junior."

"Did it come with a cape?" Sam asked.

"No, but maybe you should talk to Jim about that, Sammy." Reaves knew the talking was a delay tactic. The boys didn't want anyone hunting for the Black. But, duty was calling.

John popped his head in the door. "Goodnight boys." He grinned to his sons. He cocked his head to his side. "Caleb, you coming?"

"I'm there." And Reaves knew he was, there for the Winchesters and the other hunters in the Brotherhood.

Be careful," Sammy advised with a yawn.

"If there's trouble push Josh in the way. I bet he tastes like shit," Dean commented, relaxing back into his pillow.

Caleb laughed. Jim was of the opinion that Reaves attracted danger. He had a feeling the Winchester boys would put his growing up years to shame.

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_a/n: I want to say a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed for this little back story(Ridley laughs at her own little joke). Really though, all your comments about Caleb and The Brotherhood really keep me motivated. I'm sorry I haven't got to reply to everyone individually. I was doing better on that...and then work caught up with me. Dragons should have another part posted soon, but I'm currently at a conference, and will hopefully squeeze in some writing between sessions on self harm and dream interpretation. bg. _

_Last but not least, a huge thank you to Tidia, who has been the best Beta ever. Even doing this on short notice and being on alert for Dragons. Thanks, girl. _


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